Layer upon layer of luminous halos wreathed the sky, encircling the Light Clan’s tribal domain.
In one remote corner of the Light Clan’s vast territorial network, there existed an instant messaging app known as BlinkChat—its original name, 咣咣, echoing through the digital ether.
BlinkChat, scattered across countless digital backwaters, boasted quadrillions of loyal users. Yet in the rankings of the territory’s IM apps, it was all but invisible—likely somewhere past the hundred-thousandth spot, a testament to the sheer scale of the Light Clan’s domain.
Still, none of that stopped BlinkChat from thriving in its own peculiar way, carving out a lively niche amid the endless expanse.
The company’s two CEOs were both Stellar Palace-tier cultivators—a mark of status even for a minor app.
Even the tiniest digital corner could harbor quadrillions of users.
The leader of the starry-sky power, his whole body flickering with a sickly green glow, said, “How could we possibly block it? The news is spreading so fast, everyone already knows. Trying to intercept it now would only make things worse and have no effect at all.”
Countless BlinkChat accounts at Morning Star grade buzzed with activity, their messages flashing ceaselessly. The platform’s central processor strained under the load, while venomous curses and insults poured down like a meteor shower—bans and blocks couldn’t keep up, and complaints and reports were hopelessly backlogged.
A glimpse inside revealed the chaos—a single app, BlinkChat, was just one microcosm among countless others in the sprawling territorial network.
Disorder,
Madness,
—this was the truest reflection of reality.
"BlinkChat~"
Eight Morning Star-grade BlinkChat accounts lit up, their chat frames shimmering with eight distinct colors. An unknown Stellar Palace-tier light-spirit typed earnestly, hope filling each word: “What is the real name of the Human Heaven-King? Can anyone tell me?”
He quietly sent out the message.
He posted it in a BlinkChat group chat.
No one replied. The group chat remained eerily quiet. The user, whose name was Lipbone—now going by Corvin—was undeterred. In a flash, he opened over a hundred group chat windows and sent out the same message: “Does anyone know the Human Heaven-King’s real name? I’ve recently mastered a powerful curse technique. If I know the name and true identity, I can cast a curse from across the stars.” (Note: Corvin is a Stellar Palace-tier light-spirit; 'high-light' refers to Void Rift-tier light-spirits as per glossary. The distinction between Andrew Han and the misreported 'Han Invincible' should be made clear for new readers.)
The notification sounds—blink, blink, blink—rang out as every group message was successfully delivered.
After sending the messages, he waited.
“The news outlet will keep following up, proving that our Light Clan surely has plenty more Eternal Kings. Han Invincible won’t be able to rampage for long.” (Note: 'Han Invincible' is a misreported alias for Andrew Han, widely circulated among the Light Clan as a mocking or mistaken name.)
The debates in the commercial plaza grew ever louder, the scene nearly out of control, seething with endless hatred. And this was only one place on this life star, which itself was just a fringe world at the edge of Light Clan Territory.
In a certain star-system within Light Clan Territory, a starry-sky power with a nation-like structure was hastily convening an emergency meeting.
“This is bad.”
Moreover—
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